Sima Yuzhen swung her longsword, sending a fierce gust of sword wind cutting through the air.
"Ah——"
Xu Qiaoxi dodged the blade, stumbling backward and slamming against the corner of the incense altar. Pain shot through her body, making her jolt all over.
What injustice!
"It wasn't me, I didn't…"
She swallowed her grievance and tried to defend herself.
But to her surprise, Sima Yuzhen pressed the sword even closer, stopping just an inch from the tip of her nose.
"You dare——"
"Your Highness!"
At that same moment, Xie Jilian spoke urgently, pulling Xu Qiaoxi's shoulder and shielding her behind him. He raised his bare hand to block the blade.
A deep, bloody gash appeared across the back of his right hand, blood beading and dripping down, staining Xu Qiaoxi's sleeve with scattered specks of red like plum blossoms.
With a clatter, the blood-stained sword was dropped in panic, its silver gleam flashing on the ground.
Sima Yuzhen stepped back in disbelief, retreating until she fell into the arms of the palace attendants who rushed forward to support her.
Trembling, she stared blankly at Xie Jilian's bleeding hand, murmuring, "Madman, madman… you're taking revenge on me."
Suddenly, Sima Yuzhen's pupils dilated. She charged forward and seized Xie Jilian's shoulders with both hands, as if ready to fight to the death, shrieking in fury.
"I am the Grand Princess! Xie Jilian, you damned madman, why do you torment me!"
She screamed in hysterics, her vermilion-stained hands raised to strike Xie Jilian. The servants cried out in alarm and trembled as they rushed to pull the two apart.
Xu Qiaoxi was scared out of her wits by this insane scene, shrinking her shoulders and moving away from Xie Jilian.
This beautiful Jade Pavilion Celestial Palace was clearly a hellish arena! And she—she was just an unlucky transmigrator, a miserable college student who had run eight hundred meters in gym class.
Heavens above, if she could get out of this unscathed, she would immediately grab her down jacket and roll out of the Xie residence with a thousand thanks!
Xu Qiaoxi prayed anxiously, but Xie Jilian didn't even furrow his brow. His gaze was as calm as ever.
"The Princess is having an episode. Why haven't you escorted her back and attended to her?"
His presence was heavy and oppressive. The palace attendants trembled but still coaxed and pleaded with Sima Yuzhen.
"Your Highness, let's go back, let's go back…"
The chaotic footsteps gradually faded, and the oppressive atmosphere dispersed. Xu Qiaoxi secretly opened one eye and saw Sima Yuzhen being escorted away.
Her arms were supported on both sides, her whole body like a beautiful puppet without a soul, yet she still turned her head stubbornly toward the direction of the flower hall, her gaze desolate.
A dark vertical streak ran down her cheek through the rouge—a single tear.
"Qiaoxi, are you alright?"
A hand gently grasped her arm. Xu Qiaoxi snapped back to reality and met Xie Jilian's concerned eyes. Her nose and eyes instantly burned with heat.
Being criticized, being mocked—she could still console herself that these ancient people simply didn't know any better.
But at nineteen years old, never having been in a relationship, suddenly labeled a "homewrecker" and having someone come at her with a sword to kill her—was she not human? Did she have no right to life or dignity?
Xu Qiaoxi choked on the breath stuck in her throat, and tears as big as beans rolled down her face.
She could no longer lie to herself.
This wasn't school, and it wasn't her time. There was no modern civilization here. She could die at any moment.
Seeing her weep bitterly, Xie Jilian's eyes showed a flicker of surprise, but he quickly steadied himself and said to Yu Pu, "Summon the household physician."
He turned his head, lowered his gaze, and gently rubbed Xu Qiaoxi's soft forearm with both hands, coaxing her in a soft voice, "It's nothing serious. A dose of calming broth and you'll be fine."
Xu Qiaoxi couldn't stop crying.
She didn't want calming broth. She wanted to go back to school.
"Heavenly Lord, Bodhisattva, Jade Emperor! Sima Yuzhen really went through with it…"
The Spring Shooting had been abruptly called off by Xie Jilian, and everyone else had dispersed. Wen Shuo, thinking he'd stay to stew the roe deer he'd caught that day and enjoy some wine, had lingered behind—only to witness a spectacular drama from the rockery beside the flower hall.
The household physician carefully treated Xie Jilian's wound, wrapping his hand tightly in clean white gauze.
Wen Shuo stared at the bandaging and unconsciously touched his own right hand, as if the wound were on his and throbbing with pain.
Better not become the Princess's consort after all.
That woman Sima Yuzhen, when she went mad, could send his head rolling across the floor of a tavern.
"Lingjia, why does she insist on you and no one else?"
Wen Shuo was genuinely curious this time.
If it were about elegance and brilliance, the Second Son of the Wang family could pass muster too. Yet Sima Yuzhen was determined to pester Xie Jilian.
He curled his index finger and tapped his temple, leaning close to Xie Jilian to whisper, "She's clearly got something wrong up here. And today she hurt you again—surely the Xie family deserves some accountability?"
"I've already sent a letter to the palace informing His Majesty. They've sent back a handwritten note of apology, promising to keep the Princess properly attended."
"You trust him?" Wen Shuo scoffed lightly, leaning back against the armrest. "Not to mention he's been soft-hearted and muddle-headed since childhood—they're siblings, flesh and blood, supporting each other."
He glanced sideways at the plants and trees outside the flower hall. "Guess what—if Sima Yuzhen smashed Qianshui Spring Pavilion to pieces and then shed a couple of tears afterward, would her little brother still hold his ground?"
Wen Shuo sneered, deeply distrustful of the mediocre, somewhat dim-witted young emperor in the palace.
Xie Jilian smiled faintly. "You underestimate His Majesty."
"Oh?" Wen Shuo perked up instantly, gazing at Xie Jilian with a meaningful look.
Xie Jilian met his gaze, his pale amber eyes still as glass, cold and calm, like a silent ancient temple by the Luo River.
"Besides, if she smashes my Qianshan Chunting, I'll smash her Princess Manor. There are plenty of ways to balance things out in this world."
This… Wen Shuo bit his own tongue.
The most formidable figure of the younger generation of the Xie family was undoubtedly Xie Jilian—the only man in the world who truly had the means to disregard the new Princess of Xincheng, and even the one seated in the grand hall.
From the moment he was born into the Xie family, rivers and mountains were but dice in his palm.
Wen Shuo let out a self-deprecating sigh, deciding to stop worrying about anything. He stretched, kicked out a leg, and his left foot suddenly struck a piece of fabric.
It was the coarse hemp garment Xu Qiaoxi had taken off.
"Hey, how is that young lady doing?"
Wen Shuo picked up the hemp garment, pinching the fabric between two fingers and rubbing it, his gaze playful, as if sizing up the young woman through the cloth.
"Sent her some calming broth."
"The beauty was frightened, and you just send a bowl of calming broth?"
Wen Shuo shook his head with a look of pity: "You rarely interact with women, so you don't know how to cherish them. At times like this…"
"The spring wine hasn't been unsealed from the cellar yet. How about today? Yu Pu, take Young Master Wen to the wine cellar to pick a vintage."
"Ah?"
Wen Shuo was slightly surprised, not understanding why Xie Jilian's topic had suddenly shifted to spring wine.
But he was fond of drinking, and if he caught the spring wine being unsealed, he would definitely drink his fill. He wouldn't miss this opportunity.
Wen Shuo grabbed Yu Pu and headed straight for the wine cellar, casually tossing the hemp garment onto the incense table.
It happened to land on Xie Jilian's white jade horsetail whisk.
The idle spring light drifted lazily, orioles chirped softly outside the flower pavilion, and inside, one person sat alone, the incense burner giving off a faint, lonely air.
Shadows flickered beyond the mottled bamboo curtain. Xie Jilian slowly unwound the bandage on his right hand with his left, Sima Yuzhen's words "whole and intact" echoing in his ears…
He lowered his head, a smirk tugging at his lips.
A foolish woman who overestimates herself.
He wouldn't sit idly waiting for the congratulatory memorial of his marriage to the princess to arrive at the Xie residence. She guessed right—he was going to pull some strings.
If that young woman hadn't appeared, a lowly slave he'd arranged would have run out from the woods. When he "accidentally" shot and injured them, Xie Jilian would then feign shock and distraction on stage, "accidentally" stumble and fall off the archery platform, breaking his leg. Problem solved.
After all, a cripple could hardly be a consort.
Sima Yuzhen schemed to pin him down, but he rather enjoyed the thrill of surviving a desperate situation.
Who would have thought a real "accident" would occur in the woods?
At the moment the arrowhead took aim, the suddenly appearing stranger and the deer's silhouette overlapped.
A naive, round face flickered with confusion, glancing around in shock and curiosity.
Like a forest spirit touched by morning dew, she had transformed into a bewildered little ball of jade.
Xie Jilian's heart stirred slightly, and the hand drawing the bow quietly shifted direction.
This spring rain fell cold and desolate—Luoyang City could use some excitement to liven things up.
The last layer of gauze peeled away from the flesh, sticking to the greenish hemostatic paste and the thin, half-formed scab.
Xie Jilian looked down, pressing his clean, neatly rounded fingernail along the wound, sliding it dull and slow.
He had a peculiar condition known to no one—an extreme insensitivity to pain.
This wound was no more than a mosquito bite, stirring no fear or alarm.
He lived like the dead.
Amusing to think—behind the Xie family's towering gates, within those deep courtyards, what was enshrined was nothing but a corpse, floating in the babbling stream of Qianshan Chunting, bloated, cold and damp, pale and greasy…
But in these absurd times, who wasn't dead?
Xie Jilian didn't care.
In fact, for him, secretly manipulating the Floating Corpse to occasionally rise from the dead, savoring the terror and contortion on the faces of those on shore, was a pleasure.
His only pleasure.
Xie Jilian scraped at the back of his hand, prying open the sealed wound, his jade-white fingertip pressing and dragging back and forth across the crimson gash, toying with the bleeding flesh. The blood cooled, then was ground warm again, finally drying on his skin into chaotic traces.
No pain. No feeling.
He turned his head, his hollow gaze following the stream through the courtyard, searching for where his Floating Corpse had drifted, lurking beside whom.
In the distance, a graceful figure suddenly emerged from the lush shadows of the trees, holding a bowl, crouching at the base of a trunk.
Her wrist lifted, and dark brown medicinal liquid poured out, emptied to the last drop.
Neither fine wine nor good medicine would she drink.
Quite the schemer, isn't she.
Xie Jilian's wandering thoughts were drawn to her actions. His amber eyes traced her from head to toe—once, twice, three times…
She didn't want to stay at the Xie residence? Among the countless palaces, which one was better than his? Among the beauties like clouds, who had better looks than him?
For the first time in his life, Xie Jilian's goodwill had run aground.
He rose and walked to the stream's edge, gazing at his reflection in the slow water.
His blood-stained fingertip traced across the surface, and above the rippling waves, that face of startling, ghostly beauty flickered with a peculiar emotion.
Xu Qiaoxi.
I do hope you'll be entertaining.
"Hey—wake up!"
She opened her eyes. Outside the window, the sky was pale with the first light of dawn.
Xu Qiaoxi broke out in goosebumps, her legs twitching uncontrollably, kicking the hard wooden bedboard with a thud.
"I'm up!"
She got out of bed, dressing, putting on shoes, and washing her face at lightning speed before rushing toward the small table in the center of the room—even managing to twist her hair up into a bun mid-way across the five-step distance.
Xu Qiaoxi was certain she'd taken no more than three minutes, but when she sat down, Lan Yan still shot her a glare.
"So lazy. I've never seen any young lady who can sleep as much as you."
Heavens have mercy!
Without a phone alarm clock, and with people here rising far too early, Xu Qiaoxi had already been cautious after oversleeping two days in a row. She'd specially asked Lu Yun to call out loudly if she still hadn't woken up before mealtime.
"I drank the calming herbal soup, you know…"
Of course, she hadn't.
She couldn't remember where she'd read the tidbit, but it said that ancient calming medicines contained mercury—that the so-called "calming" effect was actually just the nerves being numbed by poison.
Xu Qiaoxi's stamina was poor, sure, but she wasn't at the point of needing medicine to recover from a good cry. Besides, that piece of knowledge kept echoing in her mind, and she simply didn't have the courage to drink that dark brown medicinal brew. So she'd poured it all out.
"The young master is kind-hearted and lenient—he won't scold the servants or maids, so oversleeping wouldn't have mattered anyway. But today is the big day for airing out the household's book collection, so you'd better eat something."
Lu Yun had originally disliked Xu Qiaoxi, this strange outsider, just as much as Lan Yan did. But the other day, when she heard that Xu Qiaoxi had, of all things, run into the new City Princess—
The new City Princess was domineering and arrogant; running into her never boded well. Lu Yun couldn't help but worry, hoping only that Xu Qiaoxi would come out unscathed.
When she saw Xu Qiaoxi again afterward, her attitude had softened considerably, and these past two days she'd been willing to chat with her a bit more.
Lan Yan helped herself to a bowl of millet porridge, picked up a chopstick-full of green mallow greens, and began eating at a leisurely pace.
Suddenly feeling a gaze on her, Lan Yan glared back. "What are you looking at me for?"
"Oh, nothing…" Xu Qiaoxi was caught off guard by the girl's stare and quickly shook her head to show she meant no harm.
"If it's nothing, then eat!" Lan Yan found it unbearable to share a room with someone like this. "You dolt, hopelessly dense. I really don't know what the young master keeps you around for."
"I…" Xu Qiaoxi started to speak, then hesitated.
Lu Yun caught on to what she meant and asked, "If you don't want that, there's bean rice. Want me to get you some?"
"No thanks!"
"Bean rice" was what they called "rice" steamed from soybeans and red beans mixed with grains. That bland, dry, beany taste was even worse than millet porridge!
Suppressing her stomach's protests, Xu Qiaoxi picked up the millet porridge and gulped it down in big mouthfuls.
She'd been in this era for two days now. Aside from sleeping and getting up, her biggest headache was mealtime.
To be fair, the Xie household provided steady meals every day, and even the servants got fish and meat—that was already quite generous for this era.
But with no rich seasonings and such a pitifully limited selection of food… A college student in the prime of life's cravings, Xu Qiaoxi suspected the real reason she couldn't get out of bed was probably hunger.
Lan Yan finished eating and rose to leave first, not wanting to spend another second with Xu Qiaoxi. Only when she reached the doorway did she say to Lu Yun, "I'll head to Dichen Tower first. Bring her along later."
Lu Yun gave a soft "oh" and lowered her head to continue drinking her porridge. As the hot porridge went down, some words rose to her lips.
"Lan Yan is a household-born servant. Her temper is a bit prouder than most, but she's not a bad person. And… her parents died in the barbarian uprisings, so she hates barbarians more than anything."
"But I'm not a barbarian."
"…Did you know you speak gibberish in your sleep?"
Huh?
Awkwardness spread between the two of them.
Xu Qiaoxi clutched her bowl, staring wide-eyed at Lu Yun.
"A long string of it, spoken with real rhythm and tone. None of us could understand it. Lan Yan thought it was the barbarian tongue."
The bowl, still half-full of millet porridge, landed heavily on the table.
"That was! It was… it was… ugh…"
It was the "lingering affliction" from listening to TEM-4 listening comprehension practice every night before bed.
She was a sophomore now. English majors faced the TEM-4 exam in the second semester of their sophomore year, and it was far too important to them. Xu Qiaoxi had started reviewing back in the first semester.
Listening was her weak point, so she'd stored nearly twenty years' worth of TEM-4 listening exam recordings in her phone's cloud drive and listened to them every night.
As it turned out, her roommates later discovered with astonishment that Xu Qiaoxi even recited the listening prompts in her sleep-talk.
What Lan Yan thought was "barbarian speech" was just damn English.
"Don't just sit there," Lu Yun said, seeing Xu Qiaoxi staring gloomily at her millet porridge. She urged her on while also offering comfort. "The young master kept you here, so whether you're Han or barbarian doesn't matter. What matters is that you're part of the Xie household now."
"Hurry up and finish eating. The books stored in Dichen Tower are the young master's prized collection—we can't afford any delays."